


Technicalities

by ChasingAnna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Clever!Neville, F/M, Genderswap, Magical Contracts, Marriage Contracts, Smart Neville Longbottom, fem!Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingAnna/pseuds/ChasingAnna
Summary: After discovering Voldemort's plan for the Triwizard Tournament, and some research into magical contracts, Neville may have found a way to stop him, but at what cost?
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Voldemort
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	Technicalities

Neville reappeared at the center of the Triwizard maze, a young girl with tear-stained cheeks in his arms. There stood Harry, Cedric, and Fleur.

“Who is that?” Harry asked.

“Her name’s Violet Dammor, we need help,” said Neville. Cedric sent up sparks as Harry eyed them warily.

“Violet D’Amour?” said Fleur, turning to the girl, “Est-ce que tu vas bien?”

“Don’t bother her just yet. She’s been through a lot,” said Neville.

Dumbledore arrived in the clearing, peering at them over his half-moon glasses. His face was inscrutable as he took in the scene. 

“The cup was a portkey. You-Know-Who was trying to trap Harry. I got there first,” Neville looked over at Violet, “I had to save her.”

“Neville, do you know who this girl is?” Dumbledore asked, gaze coming to rest on Violet.

Neville nodded.

“I think you and… Violet was it? Should come with me to my office and explain how this has happened.”

~~~Four hours earlier~~~

There are two interesting things about magical contracts. First is that they never really expired. They stay in effect until the conditions are fulfilled, completing them, or until they are broken, forfeiting the magic of the oath breaker. The second is that unlike the Unbreakable Vow, they can be inherited. It was for this reason, Hermione surmised, that Harry could be subject to a magical contract to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. All the old houses had pledged that they would compete if chosen, and thus all descendants of those families were likewise bound to compete if the cup chose them.

It was Neville that struck on the idea, too late, unfortunately, that with a bit of foresight, Voldemort could have been trapped by the cup just as readily. A powerful confundus charm had fooled the cup into choosing Harry, and there was nothing to stop it from being similarly tricked into choosing “Tom Riddle” next tournament. Had they only thought of that first, Voldemort would have been either trapped by Aurors when he arrived to compete, or stripped of his wizarding powers when he failed to show. Sadly, the tournament was already underway, and could not occur again on such short notice.

That is not to say that all hope was lost, however. The Triwizard Tournament was not the only magical contract in effect. The Ministry kept records of all such contracts for all families under their jurisdiction. After some genealogical research and no small number of favors had been called in, stacks of parchment had been procured. Now the hunt was on. Voldemort was the last in the line of the Gaunt family and little else was known about his direct lineage. However, between the four of them, they were descended from nine known wizard families. If even one of them had some family contract with the Gaunts which could be exploited, the whole battle could be over before it began. Hermione and Neville took the lead on the sorting and cross-referencing 

Neville and Hermione pored over the ancient documents before him as Harry and Ron fetched them various books and resources as they were required. Decades, perhaps centuries of magical contracts were still due, creating a tangled mess of commitments which, hopefully, could be used to bind Voldemort. There had to be something here they could use, some outstanding family debt that could be leveraged. A pledge of mutual defense with the Smithwick’s in case of French invasion, a dowry agreement for a marriage that had never occurred, dozens of other forgotten pledges between the various families.

As he and Hermione worked, a second pile of parchment began to grow, covered in notes and lines as they sorted through generations of inter-family promises.

“I think I’ve got it!” said Neville, “Look it over, make sure I didn’t miss anything.” He handed the page to Hermione, who set about checking its references on a fresh page.

“My God,” she whispered, “This could work. But are you willing to go through with it?”

“Someone has to.”

“Then I will,” Harry said, walking over to them, “it’s me he’s after, I should take the risk.”

Hermione backed up, startled by the sudden interruption.

“No Harry, this is my plan,” Neville insisted, clutching the page to his chest.

“I’m not asking, Neville.” Harry raised his wand. “Hand over the page.” Why did it always have to come down to this? Harry hated it, but he had to protect Neville.

“No Harry,” Neville said, shrinking back from him.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Harry felt Hermione’s arms around him, “I’m sorry Harry,” she said, guiding Harry’s frozen body to the ground. She dug through Harry’s pockets and pulled out the invisibility cloak.

“This should get you into the maze. Probably most of the way through too.”

Neville took the cloak, threw it over his shoulders, and disappeared.

Neville spilled out onto the cold ground of the graveyard, the Triwizard Cup rolling out of his fingers.

“Well, this is unexpected,” came a soft, vicious voice, “seize him Wormtail.”

Neville felt ropes winding around his wrists, dragging him to his feet.

“It’s not ideal, but it will do. You know, I intended to come after you after killing Potter. I suspected it might have been you the prophecy spoke of,” he turned back to Wormatil, “Begin the ritual.”

Wormtail whimpered, busying himself about the cauldron. Neville had done his research. He knew what had to happen, but still trembled in fear at what was coming.

“Bone of the Father, unknowingly bequeathed.”

A single rib bone rose from the soil of a nearby grave, hovered above the bubbling liquid. It disintegrated, drifting down as fine powder into the cauldron.

“Blood of the Enemy, taken by force.” Wormtail drew a silver blade across Neville’s palm. Fat drops of blood flowed into a vial. Wormtail added it to the roiling cauldron.

“Please master, isn’t their anyone else?”

“You gave your own finger to escape black, would you not give a little more for your master?”

Neville could see the tears tracing down Wormtail’s cheeks as he stood, hand outstretched above the cauldron.

“Flesh of the servant, willingly given.” Wormtail brought the knife down, cleaving his hand from his wrist. Sobbing, he bound a makeshift tourniquet around the stump before lifting the swaddled dark lord and lowering him into the potion. It boiled over, splattering the ground as it turned a dark, evil red. Something began to rise from the surface.

Neville shut his eyes, praying this would work. Praying that his sacrifice wouldn’t be for naught.

“What have you done, Wormtail?” Voldemort’s voice was still icy cold, but stronger now. Stronger and more… adorable?

Neville opened his eyes to see Wormtail struggling, one-handed, to place a robe on the pale form of an 11-year-old girl.

“I… I don’t know. I did everything you told me” He stammered.

“I can explain if you let me go,” said Neville.

“Explain yourself!” demanded the girl, stamping her foot as Neville dropped to the ground, free from his bindings. 

“Well, it’s a bit complicated. You see, the Gaunts had a contract with the Smithwicks for mutual defense against the Normans.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she interrupted.

“Well, my grandmother comes from the Smithwicks, so technically that would be a contract between our families.”

“England isn’t at war with France.”

“Well, no, but the Beaubaton champion is competing against Harry, who’s great-great-great-great-grandmother on his father’s side is a Smithwick, so technically a Norman is in conflict with the Smithwicks.

“The next bit was actually your own doing. When you united our bloodlines,” he pointed at his cut hand, “I fulfilled my part of the deal, thus binding you to the Smithwick’s defense.”

“Wormtail, kill him.”

Wormtail raised his wand, pointing it at Neville, who shrunk away. “Av…” he began, then paused. “A… Av… A…” he shook his wand with each new attempt, seemingly unable to form the words.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Neville exclaimed, gasping a sigh of relief. “I was pretty sure you would have forced them to swear non-aggression to you, but I wasn’t sure you’d have thought to expand it to your family.”

“Family?”

“I’ll get to that, but yeah. And you might be thinking of trying to find a new follower and revising the oath so that they could attack me. You would be duty-bound to kill them and their family, and yourself if it was on your order. Slytherin-Dewin Alliance of 814.”

“I don’t understand,” little Lady Voldemort said plaintively, “why am I in this body?”

“Well, that goes to a contract between the Gaunts and the Garrands, my Mom’s side, for interfamily disputes during wartime. You’re obligated to restore any property you or your soldiers take, damage, or destroy in the course of the war. And, well, this was a long time ago, wives counted as property. Bellatrix… my mom…” Tears welled in his eyes, “Anyway, the point is you were then obligated to provide a marriageable spouse for the line of Garrand at the earliest opportunity.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

“We’re betrothed. You’ll have to come back to Hogwarts with me.”

“I refuse!” she stamped her foot again, glaring at him.

“I command it.”

“Ha! I’m the most feared dark wizard of all time! Wizards fear to even speak my name. How could you command me to do anything?”

“Peverell-Black standard marriage contract has a blood supremacy rider. I’m pureblood, you’re half-blood, thus you are contractually bound to be subservient to me. If you violate any of these contracts, you lose all your magic.”

She pouted at him, tears beginning to leak from her eyes, “So now what?”

“We go back to Hogwarts. But you’ll need a new name. I’m sworn to protect you now too.”

~~~Dumbledore’s Office~~~

“Violet, is this true?”

“Yes, I am Voldemort! And if you think this will stop me, you are mistaken. I survived a decade with no body, you think I won’t figure out how to overcome-”

“That’s quite enough. Please excuse us for a moment so I can speak with your fiancé.”

Cheeks reddening, she glared at Dumbledore, but kept silent as Dumbledore addressed Neville.

“Neville, you do understand the ramifications of bringing her back here.”

“Yes, professor. When she’s arrested, I’ll have failed to protect her in violation of the contract. I’ll be stripped of all magic.” Tears once again began to swell in his eyes. “I’ll be a squib.”

“Then we must be careful her secret isn’t discovered.”

“Professor, you can’t. That’s Vol- Voldemort!”

“Yes, she is. She is also an 11-year-old girl. A headmaster can hardly fail to protect such a child, nor would he sacrifice the magic of one of his charges, even in an attempt to contain an enemy. Young Violet, I believe, must start her Hogwarts education.”

After the children left, the Potions Master canceled his disillusionment charm, appearing in the corner of the room and striding towards the desk.

“Headmaster, I must caution against treating even a weakened Dark Lord in such a cavalier manner. Even if reduced to such a form, that is still the most powerful wizard ever to plague this land.”

“In part. Voldemort has split his soul so many times now, there’s precious little of it left. You are familiar, I’m sure, with the concept of Horcruxes?”

“Yes.”

“Voldemort survived because he created horcruxes to obtain his immortality. Each time he created one, it would tear his soul in two. He created at least seven of them.”

“Seven? Halving seven times would leave…”

“Less than one percent of the original. Yet Violet, at least thus far, seems to have at least near a complete soul. She is 1% the Dark Lord, and 99%... something else.

“I might remind you that there is also risk in moving to incautiously against Voldemort. We do not know the limits of what binds what is left of Voldemort to the girl. By moving too quickly we may inadvertently not only strip Mr. Longbottom of his powers, but restore Voldemort’s.”

“I see your point.”

“There is also still the matter of who placed Mr. Potter’s name in the Goblet. You have not forgotten that person remains on the loose. Perhaps we should call Professor moody in to gain his insight.”

To be (maybe) continued...

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a few ideas for how this goes from here, but it's probably going to be left as-is for the foreseeable future.


End file.
